


Booker and His Relationship With Mental Health

by Lexzandrihya



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Gets Therapy, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Needs Therapy, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Needs a Hug, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Whump, Depressed Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, i don't know how to name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27380947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexzandrihya/pseuds/Lexzandrihya
Summary: Depressed. PTSD. Emotionally traumatised. Touch-starved.These were terms that the immortals were unfamiliar with. Being so much older than Sebastien, Yusuf, Nicolo and Andromache were jaded to the cruelty of the world and the distress that it often brought to those unused. They weren’t to know.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova
Comments: 26
Kudos: 119





	1. Ignorance Or Indifference?

Depressed. PTSD. Emotionally traumatised. Touch starved. 

These were terms that the immortals were unfamiliar with. Being so much older than Sebastien, Yusuf, Nicolo and Andromache were jaded to the cruelty of the world and the distress that it often brought to those unused. They weren’t to know. 

Sleep always came easy to him. Where ever he was, comfort didn't matter, sleep would take him over in moments. How long he slept, well, that varied. 

He was never interested in doing other things. Movies, games, the occasional spar offer, nothing ever captured his attention. He always turned down their offers and hated them for not bothering to ask anymore. 

He was volatile. He was difficult. He was irritable. A moment could pass when all was fine, the next would bring about such a surge of annoyance. 

He rarely ever ate and when he did, a few bites made him so full. Even the dishes that he loved could not bring out his appetite. 

They didn't know what to look out for. They didn't know the signs. And their ignorance caused their Sebastien pain. 

They were oblivious to the fact that Sebastien was depressed. 

Sebastien was not a soldier. He was a forger. His mind wasn't built to withstand the trauma of constant battle. The constant battle that the others seemed to be constantly engaged in. 

He went along with it because he didn't want to be considered weak. The time that he had grown up in frowned upon men who weren't warriors, who weren't tough. 

He could hardly stand the fighting. The only good part of it would be when he died horribly. Yusuf and Nicolo would invite him to their bed for a night. He never dared stay longer than that. Afraid that if he overstepped, he wouldn't be invited again. The way he felt in their arms was a feeling of safety that he couldn't replicate elsewhere. 

When he would be left. His nightmares would keep him up. Motel owners would kick him out. Bribes wouldn't keep him in there. Hostels would not allow him to stay; he was too old.

Often, if a stranger on the road brushed by him, his hand would jerk towards his gun, before he realised that there was on danger.

Loud noises around him were a nono. He hated them. EDM reminded him of gunshots. Action movies playing in neighbouring rooms made him stiffen for a fight that wouldn’t come. 

Sebastien had PTSD. 

The loss of Sebastien’s family caused him pain. His oldest son’s execution caused him more grief than his wife would ever know. To know that his son died the same way he had. Sebastien’s middle son was killed defending his wife. An honourable way to go. Painful for his wife and unborn son, but honourable. Sebastien’s wife died quickly. That was a mercy. One day she came down with a high fever, the next she was gone. His youngest son death hurt him the most. Jean-Pierre cursed Sebastien as he laid in pain, believing that he would not share the secret of his immortality with his own son. With his baby. 

But what hurt the most, was the pain of Yusuf and Nicolo’s rejection. That killed him. Yes, they invited him to their bed from time to time, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted more. He wanted to be an equal part of that relationship.

So he tried to convince himself that the periodic invites were enough. He hated himself for being so weak. 

His trauma was no joke. His Emotional trauma was no joke. 

When he and Quynh were found, she had only just begun to find some affection for him through the resentment he carried for his blatant disregard of life. 

When he and Quynh were found, he felt helpless for she had discarded all of the alcohol. The substance that had so long been his crutch when he was abandoned.

When he and Quynh were found, his exile was commuted. 

Things did not get easier. Nicolo and Yusuf mostly ignored him. Andromache and Nile walked on eggshells around him, avoiding topics like what led to his exile. Quynh was the only one who treated him like a person. 

One night, not long after he had gone to his solitary bed, he woke to the sound of Yusuf and Nicolo shuffling into his room and lying down beside. He kept his eyes closed, in a facade that he knew his ex-lovers saw right through. Or were they still his lovers? Sebastien did not know. 

He woke more rested than he had in a long time. He laid still in their arms, dreading the moment when they’d wake and the soft words they’d whispered to him in the dead of night would not survive the harsh light of dawn. 

Tears began to build in his eyes. He wished he had never agreed to turn himself in. That was what led to this. He should have taken what he had been given and not wanted for more. That's what started this whole mess. 

Once in a while, Yusuf and Nicolo would invite him into their bed and hearts. Being the weak man he was, he could never refuse the invitation, knowing that these interactions could never be what he wanted, but it was better than nothing. 

Those tears that had built started to flow. His cheeks dampened and soaked the beard that had grown as a result of his indifference to his looks. 

Unable to control himself, his tears turned into sobs. He cried as silently as he could. It wasn’t silent enough. Nicolo woke almost immediately and pulled Sebastien into his arms. 

The movement caused Yusuf to blearily open his eyes. Hearing his lover’s sobs, Yusuf held him from behind, murmuring endearments and consoling phrases in his ever so slightly accented French. 

However, instead of calming Sebastien, he only sobbed louder. 

Sebastien could not bear to feel the embraces of the men that he loved. Yes, loved. A love that was not reciprocated. The love that Sebastien felt for them made what he felt for Amelie fall so, so short. 

He tried to wrestle out of their embrace. He couldn’t take it. Their arms were suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. Somehow, they realised that and let him go.

Sebastian curled upon himself and stayed as such for what seemed to be hours. Every time one of the older men tried to offer comfort through touch, he flinched so very hard. After a few tries, they too stopped. 

The loss of contact made him feel both better and worse. His breaths came easier, but the ruins of his heart crumbled all the more. He longed for touch; he was touch-starved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'm going to expand this fic. TBH, I want to but I don't know the direction that I want to take it in. Lemme know what you think.


	2. Righting The Wrongs. Or Rather, Trying To Do So

They didn’t speak of it. They didn’t speak of the tears Sebastien had shed in and out of their arms. They didn’t bother. In Sebastien’s mind, the previous night was just another aspect of his punishment. Andy had ended his exile, but he had not fooled himself into thinking that he was forgiven. 

At least they didn’t speak of it immediately. Or even that day. Or week. The next week, however, they did. The house was empty. Or rather, Nile, Andromache and Quynh had left for the day. 

Yusuf and Nicolo were in the hall. The two of them had been surprisingly quiet since Sebastien had broken down. They had not said much to anyone. Once he had caught Yusuf staring at him with tears, actual tears in his eyes. Sebastien didn’t remember ever seeing him cry. For all of his romantic declarations, Yusuf weirdly never cried. 

When he came out into the hall, he saw Nicolo and Yusuf were speaking in low tones, seeing him, they shut up. 

Sebastien ignored them and walked into the minuscule kitchen. His hands were shaking. He had just woken from a nightmare. He longed to sleep, but, when he did, his nightmares woke him. He longed to be held but feared to ask. Sleep never evaded him, but sleep did not stay either. 

As he picked up his cup of chamomile tea and was about to leave the kitchen, his hand was gently held and he was led into the living room. 

They sat in silence for minutes before Yusuf started to speak. 

“We need to speak to you Basti.” 

“And we need to hear the truth.” Nicolo continued. 

“What truth?” Sebastien whispered bitterly. “You have already come to conclusions on your own. You obviously know all that you need too.” 

“Your tone of voice and eyes say otherwise. And this isn’t just about…” Yusuf paused, trying to search for the right word. “Merrick. This is also about us. All three of us.”

“The three of us? I don’t understand? There is no three of us. There is the both of you and there is me; the one that you invite into your bed when you feel like it and aban-” Sebastien’s mouth clamped shut before he could reveal his biggest secret and fear.

“Tell us Basti. Please.” 

Sebastien shook his head and held back the fear from his eyes. He felt that it was unfair that even though he was in love with them, he could not read them half as well as they could read him. His expressions and tells. The way his eyes looked when he was happy and when he was sad. If only they knew what his eyes looked like when he felt love. 

“I love you, Sebastien. Not as my brother, but as I love Nicolo. You, Bastien, are one half of my heart and soul, and Nicolo is the other half. I love you more than I can say. I love you more than I knew I was capable of.” 

Sebastien’s head jerked up at those words. Surprise coloured his face and his pale eyes darkened with tears. Why was Yusuf saying that? 

“As do I. I too love you, mi amore. You are more precious to me than you can know. And that is not your fault. It is mine for I never told you what and how much you mean to me.” 

Sebastien could no longer hold back his tears. They flowed freely, silently down his face. Seeing this, the older men both reached out and tried to hold him. He shrugged out of their touch. He couldn’t, wouldn’t believe their words. How could he, when their actions of two centuries suggested otherwise? 

“I… don’t... love you.” Saying those words killed him inside out and despite his best efforts, his pain was reflected on his face, betraying the lie. 

“I know that we have hurt you. I know that we have never told you how we felt even though we have often invited you to our bed. You always leave before we wake, and that led us to believe that you never wanted us romantically. That you only wanted us in that way. Now we know that we were wrong. That our silence hurt you so much, made you feel so abandoned, so alone that you would turn yourself in for experimentation just to escape it.” 

Sebastien looked at Yusuf in surprise. How did he know? How did he… Copley. Copley must have told them. 

“Basti, I cannot apologies enough for not hearing you out that day. For jumping to conclusions about your actions. For believing that you could be so selfish, when your actions have, for so long suggested otherwise. We know how little you think of yourself, the things you do for us. You keep us out of the public eye, using technology that you barely understand and mostly dislike, just to keep us safe, yet we have never thanked you. I’ve lost count of the number of times that you have jumped in front of anyone of us just so we wouldn’t be shot or stabbed. You do all these things yet, you never ask for anything. Your heart is the purest I’ve come across in a millennium, and I’ve repaid your sacrifices with distrust and hurt. I truly am sorry. Please forgive me.”

As Yusuf spoke, Sebastien’s eyes widened. He wanted to say that he only jumped in front of them because he wanted to die. And he knew that if he died a particularly gruesome death and woke, that night, he would be held by the two men that held his heart. And if he didn’t then, he would rest in the arms of his wife and with the love of his sons. 

He didn’t know how to put those thoughts into words, but he didn’t want then to have a view of him that was wrong and false. He was selfish to a fault. 

“I don’t jump in front of you to protect you.” Sebastian’s voice decreased to a whisper, Yusuf and Nicolo had to strain their ears to hear what he was saying. “I… You… You always invite me to your bed if I have a bad death, so I was tried to have grisly deaths so that you would hold me. I’m not selfless.” Sebastien hoped that the Husbands has not heard his confession, but one look at their faces through is lashes, confirmed that they had. 

Hearing the words said by Sebastien, Yusuf, closed his eyes to hold back his tears. How could he have not realised that their youngest was so desperate for affection that he thought that death was the way to go about earning their love. Looking back, the elder man did realise that they had only ever invited him to bed when they needed to know that he was okay. When they needed to reassure themselves that Sebastien was indeed alive. They never spoke about it afterwards. Never asked him if he wanted more or wanted to be part of them. One-third of their relationship. They always assumed that he would ask if he wanted more. And when he didn’t, he assumed that Sebastien was content, and ignored all the other signs. Signs that said that he was not okay. 

They found out that Sebastien loved them about a week before he found them, Quynh in tow. They were in a safe house in America when Nile stumbled upon a loose floorboard in the room that used to be Sebastien’s. It was full of journals.

Desperate for answers as to why Sebastien felt the need to betray them, they decided to read those journals. 

The very first entry that they read was:

‘16/01/1978

I did not know that love could be such, so unrequited that I wish to die. I love them more than I can say, more than my mind will allow me to put into words. I do not understand their actions. They invite me to their bed, treat me as they treat a lover. Kiss me, hold me, take me and have me, but they never say what I am to them. I fear to ask for I know that the answer will be that they do not care for me the way I them. I fear that if I ask too much they will not invite me again. I leave before they wake, I do not know why I just do. I hope that I will one day stop loving them, for they have each other and do not need me.’

Yusuf was pulled out of his memories by the sound of Nicolo’s voice trying to convince Sebastien that they knew of the depth of his pain and wanted to try and ease it. That they only wanted him to be happy and that he was sorry that their silence had hurt him so. Nicolo’s words fell on deaf ears. Sebastien was not in the right headspace to listen or believe their words. 

This was their fault. They would have to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think. The next chapter should be up soon. I'll try for later today or tmr by the lastest. Thanks for reading!!


	3. Moving Forward...Slowly

Andromache, Quynh and Nile came back at around seven that night. The sight that greeted them was unexpectedly expected. Sebastien was nowhere to be seen. Yusuf was in the kitchen preparing a simple dinner and Nicolo was hacking some firewood into pieces. They had cautiously expected that the relationship between the three men would have become slightly better. However, while they were disappointed that the problems between them had not been resolved, they could not say that they had anticipated otherwise. 

Sebastien did not come out for dinner that night. The door to his room was locked and no amount of knocking would elicit a reply from the man inside. 

There was some concern that Sebastien had left, however, a quick glance through his window calmed their concerns. 

While eating dinner, Andromache suggested that she Quynh and Nile should leave. She argued that Yusuf and Nicolo needed to convince Sebastien that they were there for him and that they loved him without their presence. The women’s presence would only make things harder; Sebastien would have an excuse not to speak and listen to them. He would busy himself with taking care of them. If the women were not around, at least Yusuf and Nicolo would be able to persuade him to listen. 

So it was with some reluctance that they bade farewell to the women. Minutes later, Sebastien came out with a fully packed bag of his, said goodbye and attempted to walk out of the house. 

Yusuf and Nicolo froze with shock for a split second before jumping forward and stopping Sebastien from leaving. 

“Why are you leaving?” Nicolo asked quietly. 

“Well, I’m sure that the two of you will want time to yourself now that the ladies are gone. I don’t want to hear the two of you, so I am leaving.” Sebastien replied nonchalantly. 

Nicolo’s heart constricted upon itself. It was as though Sebastien had not heard a word that they had said the day before. 

Frustration bloomed in Yusuf’s chest. Why was it so difficult for Sebastien to hear and trust their word. The frustration, he realized, was aimed at himself because it was their actions and words or rather inaction and silence that lead to his. 

Nicolo took Sebastien’s face in his hands, ignoring the way that he stiffened and leaned his forehead against the younger man’s. “May I kiss you?” He asked in near perfect french. 

No. Sebastien’s mind wanted to say. Yes. His gullible heart told him to utter. 

Sebastien said nothing. He could not stand the unfamiliar emotion, which was all that he could see in Nicolo’s eyes. Sebastien closed his eyes and nodded ever so slightly. He hoped that Nicolo would not see it, but he did or rather he felt it. 

It was as though a current had passed through his body when he felt Nicolo’s lips on his. The kiss was gentle, soft. Sebastien neither encouraged nor discouraged the kiss. Content to take as much as Nicolo would freely give. 

Yusuf could see how tense the Frenchman’s shoulders were. He also knew that he was not responding to the kiss. Heart heavy with regret he knew that it would take a long time more for Sebastien to fully trust their word.  
Gently, the romantic touched the youngest’s small back before embracing him from behind. He did so as the Italian released Sebastien’s lips and caressed the side of his face. 

Pale cobalt blue eyes started to shine with tears. Sebastien couldn’t for the life of him figure out if this was some extension of his punishment or the lovers truly wanted him, in all if his brokenness. He did not want to believe that Yusuf and Nicolo could be so cruel, but he knew anger, like grief, drove men to do things that they normally wouldn’t even consider doing.

Yet Sebastien could not control his body’s reactions to being held by the men that he loves. He tore himself out of their arms and held himself together, wrapping his arms around his chest. 

“Please don’t.” He begged. “Please don’t. If you don’t mean this. I cannot stand it. If you don’t mean this then let me leave now. Please…” 

Holding his hands in front of him, so that Sebastien could see his every move, Yusuf walked slowly toward the younger man. He took it as a good sign that the other did not move away. 

Standing right before Sebastien, Yusuf raised his hand and caressed his cheek for a moment before speaking. “We do mean this Bastien. We will never leave you again. You will never be alone again. This is a promise. This I swear to you on my and Nicolo’s immortal lives.” 

“I too swear the same, Mio caro. Where ever you are, we will be as well, unless you look us in the eye and tell us that you don’t want us to be with you.” 

Sebastien so wanted to say as much, but he closed his eyes and imagined what life might hold if he chose to believe them and they kept their word. That fantasy seemed like heaven on earth. 

“Okay… I want to try.” 

It wasn’t easy for any of them. Sebastien was unreceptive to touch, affection or comfort that the lovers were at a loss of what to do. 

On a call with Nile, therapy was suggested. None of the three men thought that speaking to a complete strange would help, but, the conviction with which the newest immortal spoke of it encouraged them to try it. 

Copley found a therapist for them, one they could trust.

So two weeks after the women left, the three men found themselves in a psychiatrist’s office, explaining their problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Two chapters in one day. Will try for a third too!


	4. An Intuitive Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is their first therapy session. I've tried to illustrate what happens in a therapy session to the best of my knowledge. There might be inaccuracies, so please let me know if there are. 
> 
> TW: There is a scene in which Joe cuts his wrist, but that is only to show their immortality.

“I’m Doctor Harris. Can I know your names and preferred terms of address?” 

The doctor was about five feet and five inches tall. She had pale skin and red hair. Her eyes were shaped like almonds and were green in colour. She seemed kind and someone who would take no nonsense from anyone. She was rather young in appearance, but Copley assured them that she was one of the best.

“Nice to meet you, Doctor Harris, I am Nicolo Di Genova. You may call me Nicky.” 

“Thank you for seeing us. Yusuf Al-Kaysani, but I prefer Joe.” 

“Sebastien Le Livre. Booker.” He whispered, marginally softer than his counterparts. 

“And the three of you are related how?”

Sebastien shrugged. Yusuf and Nicolo exchanged glances before the former spoke. “We are lovers.” 

The doctor’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise before she regained control of her emotions and a neutral mask was set in place. 

“What brings the three of you here?” 

The older men exchanged another nervous glance before making the decision to reveal their secret. Andy would not be happy, but she would have to deal with it. And who was going to believe her anyway? The only proof would be them and HIPPA forbade her from relieving anything in their sessions.

Taking a deep breath, Joe pulled out a knife and sliced his wrist before Doctor Harris had a chance to react. Watching his wrist heal, her eyes widened. “What? How?”

“The three of us have the ability to heal in this way. From after our first death, we do not age, we heal in this manner even from death. To treat us, you will have to keep our secret, and even if you don’t treat us, you cannot tell anyone. Are you up for this?”

She nodded slowly, saying “My job has nothing to do with your physical state, it is to do with your mental state. So yes, I will treat you.” 

“Alright,” Yusuf agreed. “I was born in 1076, in what is now Tunisia, North Africa. When I was about eighteen, the stirrings of the first crusade began. I was set on defending my faith, so I left my mother, my father and my sisters to go to Jerusalem and fight. That is where I met Nicolo.” 

“I am from Genova, now part of Italy. My year of birth is 1079. I was merely fifteen when the pope called for the sons of Christianity to pick up arms to fight and take back the sacred city of Jerusalem. I was a boy who liked boys, so my father had sent me to the church, where I would become a priest and take vows of celibacy. I was just a few months short of taking my vows when we left. My first death was at Yusuf’s scimitar.” 

“And mine was at his sword.”

“We killed each other many times. It took us a year to stop killing each other, and start travelling together. Mere weeks to trust each other. And eight years to love admit our love.” 

Harris nodded along to their words, knowing that their killing of each other was not the root of the problem here. She turned to Sebastien. 

After a few moments of silence, Yusuf attempted to reach out to Sebastien, only for the other to jerk back violently. 

Doctor Harris’ keen eyes picked it up. Something had happened between the three of them. It seemed as though the other two had been together for much longer than they had been with Sebastien. That may be a cause for insecurity for the younger. 

Sebastien’s body language showed that he was terrified. Something had definitely happened between them. The larger man was very stiff in a way that was not natural for someone his size. He was curled into himself like he was afraid of blows. Had he been physically abused? The man had dark circles under his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping well. His hands were constantly moving to a pocket in his jacket and they were shaking as well. Withdrawal. He was either an alcoholic or a drug addict. 

“Booker? How old are you?” The doctor coaxed. 

“Two hundred and fifty.” He mumbled.

One of her suspicions confirmed, Harris affirmed “Okay. And how long have the three of you been involved romantically?”

“Nicolo and I invited him to our bed in 1892.”

“And you have been together since?”

“No. We wanted Bastien romantically, and we thought that…” 

As the older two explained their situation, Sebastien remained suspiciously silent. It was very obvious that Yusuf and Nicolo loved him very much, but were unable to express it correctly when the relationship first began. And considering how little Sebastien said in their session, he either did not know how to express his feelings or was scared to do so. Something told Harris that it was both aspects. 

Doctor Harris recommended that they attend sessions as a three-piece and individually, at least thrice a week. In the short session, she could tell that Sebastien was suffering from PTSD and depression. She had a feeling that she would have to push him a lot so that he would speak and reveal his emotions and thoughts. 

As the session ended, Doctor Harris made it clear that this was going to take time, a lot of it. There were no short-cuts or easy ways out, the three of them would have to work through their problems and that would take time. She also told them to slow things down in the romantic department until all three of them were ready to participate, this she aimed at the two former crusaders, making it clear in her eyes that they would have to take things at Sebastien’s pace.

As they left the building, Nicolo grasped Sebastien’s arm, to his relief, the younger did not shrug out of his hold. 

“I would not mind if the two of you would want to have sex.” He vacillated. 

“We will not. You are an equal part of us. Whatever, the two of us share, you will share too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, kudos and commenting! Lemme know what you think about this.


	5. Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: There is one line which says "And I supposed that God if he exists, wouldn’t kick me out of Heaven just because I didn’t want to kill people."  
> I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone. This line is just there for the purpose of the story and is not mean to insult anyone. I'm sorry if it does. Please let me know if it does and I'll edit it. Thanks.  
> Once again this has a therapy session. If there are any inaccuracies, please let me know and I'll make the changes. Thanks.

The therapy was brutal. Sebastien hated it. It made him feel raw inside and out; forced him to examine his feelings, his grief and even his anger, an emotion he hadn’t known that he’d been carrying. 

He was angry at Yusuf and Nicolo for not realising his pain. For claiming to love him but not knowing that their actions contradicted their words. 

He hated them and himself for the pain that he had felt due to the lack of communication between them.

He hated that so much time had been lost between them. 

Sebastien’s individual sessions were agony.

“So Booker. Tell me about your first death.” 

“I was hanged.” 

“For which crime?” 

“Desertion.” 

“The Napoleonic Wars I assume?” 

Sebastien nodded silently. 

“May I ask why you decided to desert?”

“We were dying anyway. Just wanted to do so faster. On the off chance I wouldn’t be caught, I would at least be able to go back to my family.”

“But you were caught.” He nodded again. “How did it feel?” 

He shrugged. 

“And what did you feel when you woke up?” 

He shrugged again. 

“Booker. Booker look at me. You need to speak here. It is a place where you don’t have to hold back your emotions. You can shout, scream, cry, whatever. This is your safe space for now. So please answer the questions it will help.”

“Nothing. I knew that death was a likely consequence of my actions and I was prepared for it. And I supposed that God if he exists, wouldn’t kick me out of Heaven just because I didn’t want to kill people.” 

“That’s fair. What about when you woke up again?”

Sebastien looked at her with icy eyes that sent shivers down her spine, but she maintained her eye contact with him. 

Finally, he spoke. “Terrified.” 

“Why?” 

“Wouldn’t you be?” 

“I wouldn’t know, so tell me.”

“Did you know, if done correctly, a hanging should snap the neck, either killing you instantly or paralysing you, so that you feel nothing? I died of a broken neck as a result of hanging. That was my first death. My second occurred minutes later. Suffocation. My third. My fourth. I lost count of the number of times I died that way. The Grande Armee left two days later. I didn’t make it down for a day more. Didn’t have the energy. Had to eat a raw crow.” 

“That must have been traumatic. Did you tell anyone?”

“No. They would have thought that I was possessed by a devil. My wife noticed though, and my sons.”

“That you weren’t ageing?” 

He nodded. 

“Did you tell them?”

“Not explicitly so. But they knew.”

“When did the others find you?”

“About two years after my first death. I was with my family by then.” 

“Now that you think about your first deaths, what do you remember?” 

“Cold. The others took off our jackets and any other protection that we had. Dead men had no use for them.”

“How did it go Tesoro?” Nicolo inquired, as they left Doctor Harris’ home. 

“Fine Nico. Fine.” 

Sebastien looked exhausted. His eyes were red, and his voice was rough. He had been crying. 

“Bastien…”

“What Nicolo?” He barked. 

“You can speak to me.” Nicolo’s voice soft and gentle.

“I. Don’t. Want. Too.” 

“You don’t have too. I just want you to know that you can. That I am here for you. That I love you.” 

Tears filled Sebastien’s eyes but did not fall. They said those three words to him every night, but he never replied in kind. This time was no different. Sebastien ignored the flicker of disappointment in Nicolo’s eyes and asked: “What did you do while I was there?”

“Cleaned out my equipment. And stored them in the basement.” 

“Why?” 

“Andy’s decided no more missions for the three of us.” 

“Oh… You can go if you want too.” 

“I don’t and nor does Joe. We are content to stay here for a while. Do you want too?”

Relief flooded Sebastien’s chest as he shook his head. He never enjoyed missions. He hated killing and harming people, no matter how evil or cruel they were. Doing so was going against every fibre in his being. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you.” 

“It’s alright Basti.”

Sebastien gave a small smile which increased the other’s heart rate. 

The rest of the drive to the safe house was silent as the two exchanged small grins. 

It felt good to smile again. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time. 

Dinner that night was chaos. Yusuf had made a North Indian dish that turned out to be way too spicy for them. Nicolo and Sebastien’s faces had turned red and they were panting with the sheer spice on their tongues. Yusuf was grinning at them all happy and wondering where the spice was. 

They fell into bed content. Sebastien was in the middle, held by both his lovers. 

Words of love were spoken by the older men. While Sebastien just kissed their cheeks.

Months passed. Therapy was working well for them. Sebastien smiled more, laughed more and seemed happier in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Four chapters in one day. Damn.  
> Though please don't expect such frequent updates all the time, I just had A LOT of free time today!  
> Thanks for reading, kudos and commenting!!


	6. Home

Two years of intense therapy later, the trio was at a much better place emotionally. Doctor Harris had made it clear from the beginning that this would take time, and there was no telling when they’d be ready to take the next step in their relationship. 

But it had been two freaking years. And Yusuf and Nicolo were, for the lack of a better word, horny. Sebastien showed no sign of wanting to take the next step but often told the other two that he would not hold it against them if they were to do what they needed to. 

Yusuf and Nicolo always said no. That they would all take that step together. 

In two years, not once had Sebastien ever told them that he loved them, not once had he kissed them on their lips or held them. Even now, whenever, he was held, Sebastien’s reflex would cause him to stiffen, before slowly relaxing. 

Doctor Harris told them that the term for Sebastien’s condition was known as ‘touch-starvation’. 

He had not been touched in so long that now when he was, he would not understand that it was a gesture of love.

Sebastien loved Yusuf and Nicolo beyond words. Their actions years ago had hurt him and that hurt had manifested into fear and prevented him from admitting his love for them. He wasn’t ready to do take the next step in their relationship and was so, so afraid that they would decide that he wasn’t worth waiting for. Even then, Sebastien couldn’t bring himself to give himself to them. 

The idea came to him slowly. Crept into his overworked and exhausted mind as he lay between his lovers. They were going to leave him. 

Fear captured his mind and the only coherent thought left there was: "I have to leave before they leave me." 

He was so frightened that they would grow tired of his presence and his refusal to share his body with them, and abandon him. 

So he left. At least that way he had some control over the situation. 

One morning, when Yusuf and Nicolo woke, both of them were entangled together in a way they hadn't been in two years. Sebastien had already awoken. That itself should have raised alarms; Sebastien never woke before them.

The second clue was that a few of Yusuf and Nicolo's shirts were missing.

The final clue was the piece of paper on the cabinet near the front door. 

They ignored the signs, thinking that he ad just wanted some time alone. Hours passed. Dawn turned to dusk and Sebastien had not returned.

As one, the two men rose with panic fueled energy. Where was Sebastien? Why had he not returned?

They searched the house for any sign of where he may have gone, for any note that he may have left behind to inform them when he’d be back. 

“Dear Yusuf and Nicolo,  
I cannot do this anymore. I cannot hold you back anymore. You deserve each other and I do not deserve the love that you have given me and if you haven’t realised it yet, you will soon. And you will leave. I love you too much to survive you leaving me.

Sebastien”

Tears welled up in their eyes. It was as though the past two years had meant nothing, had changed nothing. How long had Sebastien been feeling like this? Why hadn’t Sebastien told them what he felt like? How had they failed him so badly?

They had to find him. They had to show him. 

#####  \-------------------------- 

Sebastien was in the airport trying to book a last-minute flight to Marseille. Closing his eyes, he ran his hand through his sandy hair. Tears were building in his eyes. He had been stuck in the airport for the past ten hours; all the flights out of Seattle were either fully booked or grounded on the other end. 

Frustration bloomed in him. The one time… Calm, Sebastien, calm. Don't make yourself noticeable. Keep your head down. Finally, a flight to France became available and he jumped on it. 

#####  \--------------------------- 

Yusuf and Nicolo arrived at the airport right as Sebastien’s plane took off. They weren't to know that. 

Running to the first information counter they saw, they showed the attendant a picture of Sebastien and asked if she had seen him. Yusuf and Nicolo had no idea what was the alias that Sebastien had used. The attendant replied that they weren't allowed to give out such information but the sheer desperation she saw in their eyes made her heart melt. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m not authorised to give out such information, however, you may speak to my colleagues who are.” 

“Thank you!” 

“Bless you!” 

She referred them to a more senior attendant who was also moved by their anguish. The attendant asked for his name and they replied not without uncertainty: “Sebastien Le Livre.” 

“Hmmm, yes. He boarded a flight to Nice, which took off ugh about ten minutes ago. I’m sorry.” 

“When’s the next flight to Nice?” 

“I’m afraid that it’s in two days.” 

“Marseille?” 

“In an hour.” 

“Can you get us on that plane?” 

She sighed. “Yes.”

“Thank you.” 

The attendant closed her eyes before saying, “Umm… I’m overstepping and assuming here, but are the two of you with him, romantically?”

“Yes,” Yusuf replied. Retorts ready on his mouth in case the attendant was going to insult their relationship. 

“I’m in a polyamorous relationship. My lovers met first and have been in a relationship for ten years. I became part of our relationship about two years ago. It took a lot of work on their part to convince me that they loved me and that they would not leave me behind, for any reason. It’s none of my business, but there may be a reason why your third left, and I think its because he is insecure about his place with you.” 

“We know he is and we’ve been trying to convince him otherwise, but he doesn't seem to believe us,” Nicolo responded.

“Have you left him? Before?” 

Guiltily, Yusuf replied “Yes.” 

“Then you can’t blame him for not believing you. Ask him about what he needs from you. Talk to him. And most importantly, don't exclude him from the two of you. Make him feel that he is a part of you.” 

“We will. Thank you so much for your help. We won't forget this.” 

“Just make him happy.”

Nodding, the two men grabbed their tickets and ran to their boarding gate. 

The flight was tense. The pair ruminated over what the attendant had said. She was right, they had never asked Sebastien, explicitly, what he needed from them. They had never asked him if the therapy was helping, they just assumed that it was. He never said anything. Looking back, he… it was obvious that Sebastien was withdrawn and had always agreed with them. He never suggested anything that he wanted, and always agreed with them. They’d also never said anything, too happy to finally be able to be with him. 

After a gruelling fourteen hour flight, the two men rushed off the plane. Sebastien would have landed in Nice about an hour ago and a flight from Nice to Marseille was about two hours. That would leave them with about an hour and a half before Sebastien would land here. 

They breezed through immigration and were waiting for him in the arrivals hall at the domestic airport. 

The combination of shock, fear and panic on the younger man’s face was something they never wanted to see again. Yusuf vowed to himself then and there that he would never again get so caught up in his own happiness that he would ignore the signs that his lovers were trying to give him.

Seeing them Sebastien turned ninety degrees and walked away from them. Knowing they couldn't make the same mistake again, they took off behind him. Being taller than the other two, Sebastien did not have to run to keep much ahead of Yusuf and Nicolo. 

A part of him hoped that they wouldn't catch up to him. The other part of him was terrified that they wouldn't. 

The older man chased the younger out into the street. They managed to keep sight of him through the crowds and even through the maze of streets that Sebastien knew better than they ever would. 

Finally, they managed to conner him. 

“What are you doing here?”

Slightly out of breath Yusuf answered. “Chasing you of course.” 

“I love you, Sebastien. It’s time you understood that. Two years we have tried to be gentle. Two years, we have waited for you-”

“I’m not-”

“Will you listen to me, Sebastien?” 

Nicolo waited for Sebastien to nod before continuing. “I have loved you for a long time. I will love you for the rest of my life. You need to know that. Sebastien, I love you.”

“How? How can you love me after all I've done? All the pain I've put you through. All the disrespect and rudeness. Why do you love me? I am not worthy of it. I will never be." The sincerity in Sebastien's told Yusuf and Nicolo that he really believed that that the other two couldn't love him. 

"Every time I think we're getting somewhere, we're moving on I find out that I have screwed up again." Yusuf murmured in the ancient blend of Arabic and Italian that only he and Nicolo spoke. 

Closing his eyes, Yusuf realised that they frequently spoke in that language, and had never realised that Sebastien could barely understand the language. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, Sebastien."

"You have nothing to be sorry for Yusuf. You have done nothing wrong. You don't deserve to live surrounded by my inadequacies. I'm not that man that you think I am. I love you. Both of you, but we will not work. These two years have shown that to me. I cannot survive you leaving me. So please let me leave and let this be over."

"No." Nicolo meant for his voice to be loud and strong so that his conviction would be heard by Sebastien, but the raw hurt and guilt running through his veins made his voice break. 

Tears welled up in Nicolo's eyes and started to flow down his face. He suddenly realised that they couldn't force Sebastien to stay. Closing his eyes and trying to stem his tears, he asked the younger man if he could kiss him. 

Sebastien nodded. 

Stepping forward, Nicolo took Sebastien's face in his hands and placed his lips on his, savouring the feeling of being home again when Yusuf held them from behind. 

Sebastien knew that was what he wanted. Needed. Craved for. But fear had seized his mind. Any rational thought was beyond him other than his was the last time he'd feel his lovers' embrace and lips upon his.

Overtaken with panic fueled love, he responded to Nicolo's kiss. 

A large hand gripped the older man's hair and the other hand clenched Yusuf's jacket, pulling him closer to the pair. 

"I don't want to leave but I'm scared to stay. Please don't leave me. Promise to not leave me?" 

"Promise my love."

"We will never leave you Hayati." 

Finally, after years of surrendering his mind to his fear, Sebastien had a clear head. He finally saw the love in their gazes and the tenderness in their touches. He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Sebastien finally believes them. Now I think I am gonna try and explore his touch starvation, Ptsd and all of that. Please know that I am not qualified to talk about any of these issues and that any knowledge I have is from Mr Google, which may not be accurate, so in following chapters, if there are any problems, please lemme know. 
> 
> Tbh, this chapter went in a completely different direction than I intended when I began writing. Sebastien was not supposed to believe them, he was actually supposed to leave the other two heartbroken, but I couldn't do that. I hope you guys enjoyed this. Lemme know what you think about this.


	7. Never Be Alone

Depression. PTSD. Emotional trauma. Touch-starvation. 

These were terms the immortals were once unfamiliar with. Now they knew. Now they could help. They were jaded to the world’s cruelty, yes, but not so benumbed that they wanted their Sebastien to suffer. 

\-------------

His exhaustion didn't disappear completely, but he stopped falling asleep as promptly as he used too. 

Most days he loved spending time with the other and being bubbly in a way they’d never seen before. His family had no reason to ask him to join anymore, for now, he always suggested activities to bond.

He did still have bad days. Days that he would snap at everyone, till he had sufficiently beaten up a dummy in the sparring to calm down enough to ask Yusuf and Nicolo for comfort. 

He refound his love for food. During downtime from missions, he would be found in the kitchen whipping up some dish or another. Some were good, others were atrocious, but his family loved him for making an effort.

They knew the signs now. 

His depression was not gone, but it was hardly as crippling as it used to be. His smile now remained permanently on his face. 

\-------------

He wasn't a fighter. The others finally saw that. So, they changed the way the team worked. Booker and Copley shared the responsibility of finding and vetting prospective jobs. Booker also seconded for Nicolo and many a time drove the getaway car. 

He shared his bed with Yusuf and Nicolo regardless of the gruesomeness of his deaths. He was a permanent fixture of their relationship.

He would sit with his family and watch action movies just to laugh at the ridiculousness of the fight scenes, especially, the scenes in which a dozen gunmen would fail to shoot one single person. EDM music, that he still hated. It too loud and obnoxious for his liking. 

He wasn't cured, but his PTSD was much, much better. 

\---------------  
The loss of Sebastien’s family caused him pain. His oldest son’s execution caused him more grief than his wife would ever know. To know that his son died the same way he had. Sebastien’s middle son was killed defending his wife. An honourable way to go. Painful for his wife and unborn son, but honourable. Sebastien’s wife died quickly. That was a mercy. One day she came down with a high fever, the next she was gone. His youngest son death hurt him the most. Jean-Pierre cursed Sebastien as he laid in pain, believing that he would not share the secret of his immortality with his own son. With his baby.  
But that pain was soothed by Yusuf and Nicolo’s love. Their arms around him as they held him through the tears and nightmares.  
He still had emotional trauma, but it was slowly being lulled by the constancy of their love.  
\----------------  
He was touched, constantly. Hugs were given freely, not just reserved for hellos and goodbyes.  
He was held without having to ask. Yusuf and Nicolo were so attuned to his needs and wants that they knew when he was down.  
They constantly asked him if he was happy, or if there was something more that he wanted from them or from their life.  
He could always, always talk to them. They loved him and he loved them. This was family.  
Their loving touches ensured that he was no longer starved of the basic human need for contact.  
\------------------  
He was loved and cherished. He would never be alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH, I'm not all that happy with how this ended. Maybe, if I can figure out how to make the ending better, I will, but for now, this is it!  
> Thank you so much for sticking with me and lemme know what you think.  
> Also, if you have any advice on how to improve my writing, please do let me know!


End file.
